Wednesday morning, 6:30 a.m.
Wake up after not sleeping.
Pack. Clean the apartment. (Don’t want to come home to a mess.)
Hit the gym. (Test the bum knee — Jason Bajada wants you to play ball hockey on Friday.)
Where the fuck is my phone.
There it is.
Why isn’t it charged? Damn. Whatever.
You’ve packed too much.
(Oh, damn, put Sarah’s bottle of Pimm’s in there.)
(Why so many t-shirts.)
(Take the new toothbrush stupid.)
Okay. Out the door. Where’s a cab.
Side-rant: Why aren’t there ever any cabs near Bloor/Lansdowne?
There’s a cab.
Bus station please.
(Why does this cab smell like weed?)
Take Harbord please.
Why are you getting off Bloor?
(Oh I see. You’re doing the side streets to negotiate back over to Harbord, and killing precious time.)
Drive. Traffic. Drive. Traffic.
There’s the bus station. Ten minutes to spare. Thanks, pothead cabbie.
You don’t take debit/credit?!
Hey Jill, Max, Mel — can I borrow $25?
Bus starts to go. Talk to Jill. Try to sleep. Doesn’t work.
Motion sickness. Cookies tossed.
Wait, you don’t get motion sickness.
(Repeat these last three lines two more times, add in non-restful sleep and that’s the bus ride.)
Montréal! Air! Fuck yeah.
POP HQ for accreditation and media pass.
Give Sarah the bottle of Pimm’s. She smiles. All’s well.
Walk through McGill ghetto. Tour guide time. Point out things like Place Milton to Jill, who’s kind of a tourist.
The 80. Up Parc. To Alex‘s.
Hi Alex! Hi friend! You are amazing for letting me crash.
Shower = 10 minutes. Dressing = 5 minutes.
Combing hair so it looks just right = 15 minutes.
Out. What to do.
Take friend to Biarritz. Hug Jazzy. Hug her again.
Hi to Steph, hi to Jay.
Drink my drink. Eat some pakoras. Bust balls with J. It’s the best.
Tell friend how to get to her show.
(You’ve already been writing “Jill.” Why writing “friend” now? Weird. Dave, you’re weird.)
Run into Jason Bajada on street. Hugs.
Then Andre Bendahan of Final Flash.
Then up into Sala to chat with Joseph Arthur, whom I haven’t seen in a few years.
He’s not there.
Julien Aidelbaum is. Love that guy. Hi Julien!
Walk away while Kandle is playing. It sounds good. Jason Kent (of Sunfields) is up there.
Love that guy.
Walk to my show: David Martel. Love that guy. Super love. Looooove.
Run into CBC’s Joanne Vrakas and Pangee‘s Margot Ross on way.
They were apparently spanking each other on the street.
I’d have paid top dollar for [end of joke redacted].
Get to Petit Campus. Dave’s setting up. He’s happy to see me. And me him.
What to drink. Boréale Dorée = old standby.
Dave plays. It rules. New band. They work. He sweats like a motherfucker.
Genius set though.
He’s done. Paper Lions go on. It’s upbeat and fun. Ish. They’re comely young men.
The girls in PEI must write Paper Lions’ members’ names on their binders.
In the middle of hearts.
Away from Petit Campus.
Meet Jamie and Amy. Walk to Else’s.
I always bring up that story about Else (RIP) and scotch.
Amy leaves. Georges Kandalaft is there with his boss. We all talk about stuff.
Advertising revenue models.
Jamie leaves. We chat more. We all leave. I go to the church.
Erik Leijon. HI FRIEND.
Jonathan Dekel. HI FRIEND.
Max and Jill are chatting with attractive strangers.
Talk music, writing, and festivals with Dex and Erik. Drink beer.
BEST. CHEESEBURGER. EVER. Thanks Nouveau Palais!
(NB: I’m late-posting September 19th’s post because to cover POP Montréal you have to do it and write about it after. By this math I’ll have one post to make up — which I’ll do sometime next week.)
This is the nineteenth post in my #30posts challenge.
Don’t know what that is? Read this.